Lost In You
by zoal13
Summary: Lucy Williams was always alone in life. She lost her mother at a young age and her father turned to alcohol. Then after finishing high school she moved into her uncle's house to take care of him, causing her to become the town's freak. It didn't bother Lucy to be alone. She was used to it. One day two strange men entered her home and now she's not alone as she's chased by demons.


**The supernatural isn't real**

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. I stuffed my belongings into my orange flowered decorative bag. I then put on my headphones and listened to the beat of a Journey song before leaving my crowded mythology class. Once outside I felt some drops of rain fall upon me so I pulled the hood of my peach colored jacket over my head.

The place where I sleep, eat, and kept all my belongings was only about ten blocks away from the school, so I would walk every day. After the usual thirty minute walk, I entered the white door that lead into a small white building. There were no furniture besides the white couch in the living room and a simple white square table and two white chairs in the kitchen. Down the white hall were two bedrooms and a bathroom; everything white of course. Everything was too white for my liking.

I then heard the usual mutters down the hall that always followed with a scream for help. I sighed, walking down the hall to walk into the second door on my right. The room had white walls and absolutely no furniture besides a white bed, which my uncle Fred is sitting on, and white bookcases that surrounds the edges of the room and held many mythology books and newspaper clippings of local deaths.

Uncle Fred used to be a really clam and outgoing man, but when his wife died about five years ago, he became a complete mess. I guess that's what love does to you; you don't want to comprehend that the one you love is gone forever. My uncle broke that day. He claimed to have seen the ghost of his dead wife, and then he began obsessing with demons, ghosts, skin walkers, and so many more supernatural creatures. He had read online that salt kept away demons and spirits, therefore, he begged, he literally got down on his knees and groveled, for me to place salt by all the windows and doors.

I love my uncle; I'm the only one that still does. Everyone would much rather send him to the looney bin than to watch over him. Not me, though. I let him stay with me, and every day I would listen to him tell me stories about what he had discovered while I was in school until I had to leave for work. I would write all the information from my uncle into a book about all the supernatural creatures he mentions, along with their strengths and weaknesses.

"Hey Uncle Fred, how are you doing today?" I asked, picking up our Supernatural book from the bookcase and then sitting next to him on the bed. "Did you read any more books today?"

He turned to me with sad brown eyes and then screamed for a while longer. He didn't stop until I pulled him into my arms and gently rubbed his back. "Hey, it's okay. It's alright. Nothing's going to hurt you. I checked all the salt lines this morning," I whispered. I ran my fingers through his thick black hair.

"Lu-Lucy. He's coming. He's coming," He mumbled against my shoulder. "Yellow eyes. He's coming."

I didn't know what to do. I've always supported everything he said no matter how crazy it sounded, but this, this is a little over the top. A few weeks ago he told me about a demon with yellow eyes. Apparently he is very strong and dangerous. I don't know if I should accept what my uncle said as a fact. He believes that a dangerous demon is coming; someone who has killed and probably lusts for blood will be coming here soon.

"How do you know he's coming?"

"He told me. Last night. He told me. Tomorrow. He will come. Tomorrow." Tears sprung out of his dark eyes.

I laid him down on his bed as he continued to cry. "Shush. It's okay. We'll be alright. You'll feel better when you wake up." I rubbed his back until he fell asleep.

I tip-toed to my room quietly, not wanting to disturb my uncle. My room consists of the same layout as my uncle's room. A white bed was in the corner with a white bookcase on the left side. The only differences between our rooms were that I had a white desk on the left side of the entrance door and a black acoustic guitar lying against my bed. I picked up the old guitar and placed it on my lap as I sat down on my bed.

I started strumming the strings to play a slow tempo song. The melody became sad while I started to sing.

"I remember tears streaming down your face  
>When I said, 'I'll never let you go'<br>When all those shadows almost killed your light  
>I remember you said, 'Don't leave me here alone'<br>But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight  
>Just close your eyes<br>The sun is going down  
>You'll be alright<br>No one can hurt you now  
>Come morning light<br>You and I'll be safe and sound"

I checked the wall clock and noticed the time. It was time to go or I'll be late work. I placed my guitar back to where it belongs. I changed into my uniform. It was a red button up collared shirt with a black skinny tie and a black pencil skirt with black nylon tights and comfortable black flats. I looked in the mirror to check my appearance. I tied my blonde curly hair into a ponytail. I stared into my big blue eyes. They were red and puffy from crying. I noticed the trails tears left on my checks. I wiped the evidence away with toilet paper.

I hurried out of the building and into the city bus that I almost missed. I caught my breath while I looked out the window, pensive about demons and my uncle. Demons aren't real. Demons aren't real. Demons aren't real. That single thought continually flew through my mind at fast speed, repeating and repeating. Demons aren't real! My mind screamed. The supernatural, all the things my uncle believe, isn't real! Nothing is going to come! Nothing is going to hurt us! I took a deep breathe, attempting to relax. Nothing's coming, so I can focus on work and the important aspects of life.

Once the bus reached my work, I ran off the bus and hurried into the restaurant.

The restaurant was a descent size with red and white tables and booths laid out all over the room. At the other side of the black and white checkered floor was a long desk that on the side of it was connected to the kitchen. Grabbing my apron behind the kitchen door, I heard a voice.

"So how's your Uncle this week?" My coworker Josh asked. Josh was the cook of the restaurant. He had worked here for about 15 years since it first opened. He was like another uncle to me or maybe more like a grandfather due to his grey hair and the fact that he's losing his eye sight. He was the only one in this town who actually cares for my uncle and me, and he also doesn't believe in all the rumors about us being witches and sacrificing black cats to cast spells on this small town.

"I think he's getting worse," I announced sadly, putting on my apron. "Today he said a demon was coming in tomorrow." I paused. "I, I don't know what to do with him anymore. I mean I want him with me, but I also want what's best for him and if he's not getting better with me then he should go to the place where I never wanted him to go to."

Josh patted my head and handed me a plate with a cheeseburger and fries. "There's your dinner. Now go sit and eat." I nodded, but before I could sit Josh put a warm comforting hand on my shoulder and spoke again. "Look Lucy, he's going to be fine. You're doing great with him. I can see his improvement." I gave him a smile and then went to go sit.

The rain began to fall while I stared out the restaurant window. It came slowly and for a short time before it stopped, but watching the water drip and fall on the window reminded me of the time when I first moved in with my uncle after high school ended. I was only seventeen when my family broke. My mother died, my aunt died, my father tried drinking his pain and sorrow away, my uncle went crazy, and everyone else that were alive and well in my family rejected and shunned me for moving in with my uncle and helping him. The two of us were left to ourselves.

I remembered after a month of looking for a job to provide for us I went to my room and cried. I thought my uncle was asleep, so I didn't hold my tears back. Then my uncle came into my room. Usually, I would be the one to hold him as he cried, but this time he held me, which caused me to cry harder. He held me against his chest and rubbed my back gently.

"Noodle," I laughed at the nickname. He gave me the nickname when I was a baby and I loved hearing it. "you are the best thing that came into my life." His melancholy voice stopped my crying. I turned my head to look up at him. He was staring out the window as it rained outside. "My beautiful Hailey…she's gone, and you were the only one to stay by my side. You're only seventeen for God's sake, and you're the one taking care of me. You're off every day looking for a job to help _me. _You should be going to Harvard with your cousin Cathalina like you two have planned your whole lives.

"You should be having fun. You should be traveling and living life. But you're not. Because of me. And I, I want to thank you. You've done so much for me." His tears fell on my face. "You give me the strength to persevere, and you warm my heart. I'm sorry you have to give up your future to take care of me, but thank you. All I want is for you to be happy. You deserve it. You deserve to reach for the stars."

That was the day my uncle Fred gave me the black acoustic guitar and a silver necklace. It was an elegant starburst necklace with twinkling diamonds scattered across the surface and an engraving that read 'Reach for the stars' around one larger diamond on the back. I haven't taken off the necklace since he gave it to me seven years ago.

I was half way done eating my dinner when hell broke loose. The black haired diva Donna Shoemaker stomped into the restaurant and headed my way. I did nothing for I thought that she was only here to laugh at me, which she constantly does with her two blonde idiotic friends Charlie and Jill, but then I felt her hand collide with my cheek.

My fingers brushed my red cheek as the shock suppressed the pain. Donna started screaming at me. "You killed my father! You killed him! You Bitch!" Josh then entered the scene and grabbed her around the waist, stopping her from possibly attacking me any further.

I could feel all eyes on me as Josh lead Donna out to her car. I ran my fingers through my curly blonde hair. I was hoping I could hide behind my hair, hoping that I wouldn't hear the horrible whispers throughout the restaurant. I choked back my tears when Josh returned.

"I think you should head home," Josh mumbled. "Come on kid, I'll give you a ride."

* * *

><p>I walked in the white building and went into the kitchen for the very much needed cup of coke. Today has been a long day. I leaned against the kitchen counter while I drowned the coke down my throat. Suddenly, I heard screaming and other loud sounds coming from Uncle Fred's room. I ran into his room and was surprised at what I saw.<p>

A tall, dark hair man sat next to a wall as if he was thrown against it. Another man stood in front of my uncle with a gun pointed at him. Two bookcases were knocked onto the ground, books spewing everywhere.

For a moment I blanked; I didn't want to do something that would cause the death of my uncle. I gulped and then acted. Neither man had noticed me so I tackled the man with the gun. As I was on top of him, I attempted to steal the gun away, but then he pulled me under him and pointed the gun at me. As we watch one another's moves I couldn't help but notice that the man on top of me was handsome.

The stranger was the type of handsome man that would have women lining up just to have the chance to see him. His deep green eyes reflected his sadness and anger at the world. It almost made me feel bad for him. His hair was kissed by the sun; however, he probably spends his time indoors to cause his hair to be a dark shade of blonde. He had broad shoulders and strong, muscular arms. I could see a gold necklace hanging from his neck as it hangs in the air between us.

"What are you doing here?" I quietly inquired, voice shaking a little due to the fact that he has a gun.

"You didn't see us coming in that crystal ball of yours?" The handsome man gave a smart remark.

"What are you talking about?" I tried to get out from under him. "Can you please get off? I need to check on my uncle."

The man placed the gun on my chest where my heart was located. "Nope, sorry witch, but we can't let you kill more people."

"Witch? Kill?" I muttered. "Are you insane? I'm not a witch and I didn't kill anybody! So get off of me!"

"Dean, I think she's telling the truth," I heard a kinder voice say. I assumed it was the tall dark haired man who was talking. Dean, annoyed, started mumbling and then got off of me. I swiftly got up and ran to my uncle to find him knocked out on the bed.

"You idiots, look at what you did!" I shouted at them. They had no right to come in and try to kill us. We had done nothing wrong. Dean and whoever his friend is are insane. "What are you two doing here?"

"Um, you see," the kinder man started. "We're working on a case and Donna said-"

I interrupted him there, my anger constantly growing. "You listened to Donna! She went up to me earlier and slapped me! Out of all the people in the world you believed her!" I took a deep breath before calmly speaking. "I didn't kill her dad. I didn't even know her dad was dead until she started yelling at me for it. She, along with everybody else in this town, believes that I can cast spells and that I order demons to kill people, but none of that is true. I'm just a simple girl just trying to survive in this world."

"Then what's with all the salt?" Dean retorted.

Annoyed, I rubbed my temples. "I don't have to explain this to you since you two trespassed and tried to kill us, but if it'll send you two away soon then I guess I will." I took a deep breath. "My uncle believes in supernatural creatures and he told me to line every window and door with salt. Apparently they ward off demons and evil spirits." I gave them a bitter smile. "Alright, now get out before I call the police." I waved my hands to the front door.

"Wait, if you didn't kill Donna's dad then do you know what did?" The still nameless tall man asked.

Dean interrupted me. "Hey, Sammy, how the hell is she supposed to know what killed him?" Dean's green eyes looked me up and down. "She looks like a simple hot waitress."

I crossed my arms in anger. "Sorry, but your friend's right. I don't know nor do I care." I turned to check on my uncle. He was still knocked out. I took a deep breath. Nothing's going to hurt us. I closed my eyes. I won't let anybody hurt us. Uncle Fred, I promise I won't let anybody hurt you. "What do you mean by 'what'? The supernatural isn't real."

Dean and Sammy shifted to look at each other before Dean said, "Well, sorry, sweetie, but all the things that go bump in the night are real."

The supernatural isn't real. They're just some crazy lunatics that are looking for some fun. The supernatural isn't real. But then that would make my uncle crazy too. Maybe I should give them the benefit of the doubt for my uncle. I sighed once I saw Sammy give me the puppy eyes. I just couldn't resist that look. I rolled my eyes. "How did he die?"

"His eyes exploded."

Two words instantly popped into my head. I bent down and searched through the mess of books on the floor for my Supernatural book. "Do you know where he died?"

"Donna found him in the bathroom." The two men gave me a confused look as I searched through the pages of my book.

Eyes starched out? Check. Mirror? Check. This can only be…Bloody Mary. I found her page in my book and tossed it to the taller man. "This can only be done by the oh so famous Bloody Mary."

"Lily said it was her fault. Maybe she called bloody Mary, but she didn't attack her but her dad," Dean connected the information while Sammy read the pages I wrote for Bloody Mary. "All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—like a local woman who died nasty."

"Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more," said Sammy, reading.

I motioned to the newspaper clippings with my hands before sitting by the pile of books on the floor. "On the walls, there is information about local deaths if you want to check it out, but I haven't seen a recent local murder of a Mary. And there are books about mythology here if you wanna do some research." The boys joined me on the floor.

After about a half hour of research, I got up to make us all sandwiches. Sam's and Dean's frustrations grew as they found no death of a woman named Mary. Before they could continue Sammy's phone rang.

"Hello?" He answered, and then a concern look came across his face.

* * *

><p>It probably would have taken much longer to convince Dean and Sam, he prefers Sam over Sammy, to take me along with them if they weren't in such a hurry. I told them that I was a part of their group now for at least this case and that I was going to help them no matter what they did or said. Dean threatened to tie me to my bed if that's what it takes to keep me from following them, but Sam surprisingly convince Dean that I could help out since I was the one that was able to identify the monster. With their accord, I got changed into light blue jeans and a black Coheed and Cambira band t-shirt that I received from my older brother when we went to the concert together. I called Josh to ask if he could watch over my uncle and the building while I was away. Then I joined the boys in Dean's Impala as we drove to their motel room to continue investigating.<p>

* * *

><p>Dean and I were sitting on a park bench the next day. It was a bright sunny day with soft winds. The day was nice and tranquil. No one would have expected something bad to happen. No one would have expected to be sitting next to a crying girl like I am now, especially not next to a girl that hates my guts. Sitting next to us was a crying Charlie.<p>

Charlie is Donna's best friend and one of the blonde idiotic friends. All three of us went to the same university and had some of the same classes together. That's when they would always do something to ruin my day.

Sam stood, since there was no more room on the bench, trying to comfort the girl.

"They found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone." Sam let her cry on his shoulder. "And she said it." Dean and I looked at each other. "I heard her say it, but it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"

"You're not insane," I mumbled. I didn't really like that I had to cheer her up since she was one of the girls who would consistently call me insane and much nastier names. "Look something that we can't explain is happening. We can stop it but we're gonna need your help."

"Why do we have to use the window?" I complained about the fiftieth time. "I mean not like we can't fall to our deaths by being here." We were on the roof of Jill's, Donna's and Charlie's friend who died, house.

Dean was about to send me one of his smart replies when Charlie opened the window. Sam entered first and Dean threw him a duffel bag. Sam set it on the bed and started going through it while Dean and I enter the room. Sam pulled something out of the bag before Dean closed the curtains.

Sam handed me a small black device. "It's already on. You just have to make sure the room's dark and press this button." Sam indicated to the red button. "Go check the bathroom."

Dean and Sam searched Jill's room with the same little devices that Sam gave me. I headed to the bathroom, not exactly sure what I'm supposed to be looking. Jill was killed by Bloody Mary, so I should maybe check the bathroom's mirror. It seems like I was right. I stopped searching once I saw trickles of a mysterious substance running out from behind the mirror. "Hey, boys, I found something!" I shouted.

Sam was the first to enter the bathroom. I showed him my findings, and he quickly carried the mirror out to Jill's bed, Dean handing him a black light. Sam peeled off the brown paper that was on the back of the mirror. Sam then shined the black light over the back of the mirror and we found a handprint and the words "Gary Bryman."

"Who's Gary Bryman?" I asked the million dollar question.

* * *

><p>After we left we headed to the same park we were at earlier. I sat with Dean and Charlie while Sam uses his super computer powers to find out who Gary Bryman is. I saw Sam close his laptop and then he walked back over to where we were all sitting on the bench.<p>

"Okay, so Gary Bryan was an 8 year old boy. He was killed in a hit and run two years ago. The car involved was described as a black Toyota Camry but no one got the plates or saw the driver."

"Oh my God," Charlie gasped.

"What?" Sam asked her.

"Jill drove that car," she replied in horror. I wanted to laugh at the irony in this. Donna accused me for killing her father, which she was wrong about while she never said or did anything to Jill about killing a little boy, which she did kill.

"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house," Dean sighed as he got to his feet. We all nodded in agreement.

Once in the Shoemaker's home, we found the same handprint on the back of the mirror, along with the name Linda Shoemaker. Dean, always such a charmer, asked Donna who Linda Shoemaker was.

"Why are you asking me this?" she asked, sending me a glare. "What is she doing here? She's the one that killed my father!"

"Look, we're sorry, but this is important, and Lucy wasn't the one that killed him," Sam told her as I crossed my arms and tried not to roll my eyes. Sam may have defended me, but her angry scowled continued to be sent my way.

"Yeah, Linda's my mom okay?" She sighed, "She overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave."

"No Donna, just listen..." I tried.

"No, I don't want to listen to you, let alone see you! Get out of my house!" She screamed at us before bolting up the stairs. I sighed irritably. I just can't wait till all of this is over and I can go home and forget this all happened.

"Oh my God," Charlie muttered, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Do you really think her dad could have killed her mom?"

"Maybe," Sam replied, shrugging.

"I should stick around," She commented as she looked up the stairs.

"Alright," Dean nodded, "But whatever you do..."

"Believe me," She cut him off, "I won't say it." We all nodded at her before leaving.

* * *

><p>We're at the library with hopes that the computers were working. The last time we had to read books and that took forever.<p>

Dean swooped in on a computer as I dragged a chair over and sat next to him. Sam disappeared somewhere for a little while. I turned my head to where I had last seen him, and there he was, reading a bulletin board. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I don't know what looking at a bulletin board can help us with, but they're the hunters, not me.

"So," I started. "How did you and your brother get into this whole ghost, spirits thing?"

Dean stopped what he was doing, turning to me. "Our father taught us."

"How did your father get started?" The look he gave me almost made me want to cry. He just looked so sad, so broken. It was as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he had to carry it all by himself. Sometimes I felt like that. I could feel my heart rip just seeing him like this. Dean reminded me of my uncle; they both need someone to take care of them, and to help them find a reason to keep living. I don't know why or even how the thought appeared in my mind, but I wanted to be the one to help him, I wanted to be the one he could count on and open up to. Dean also reminded me a little of myself; if I had continued on the sad path of my life I would have been broken like him as well.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Sam popped up behind us, ending our slightly awkward conversation. "You're doing a nationwide search?"

"Yep," Dean nodded, "NCIC, FBI... at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for us."

"But if she's haunting this town, she should have died in the town," Sam claimed.

"We're telling you, there's nothing local," Dean told Sam, "We checked, twice. So unless you've got a better idea..."

"The way Mary's choosing her victims," Sam started, "it seems like there's a pattern."

"I know," Dean nodded.

"I was thinking the same thing," I agreed with them, "Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run." I pulled my curly blonde hair into a pony tail.

"Both had secrets where someone died," Dean nodded.

"Right," Sam nodded, "I mean, there's a lot of folklore about mirrors – that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets. That they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them."

"So if you've got a secret," I suggested, "A really nasty one where someone died, and then Mary sees it... she might be punishing them."

"Whether they're the one that summoned her or not," Sam nodded.

"Take a look at this," Dean interrupted out brainstorm. On the screen of the computer was a woman laying by a mirror in a puddle of blood. The picture next to it was a mirror with a bloody hand-print, the letters T-R-E written underneath it.

"Same hand-print," Sam commented.

"Her name was Mary Worthington," Dean informed us, "An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Alright, we'll drop Lucy off then we'll head to Indiana."

Sam nodded, getting up.

"No, I want to go with you two. I want to find whoever did this and help you get rid of it. I won't be able to sit still if I didn't go with you. And plus, I have this amazing and wonderful supernatural book that I have memorized, so I will be very handy. So, please let me go with you."

The brothers glanced at each other. Sam shrugged as Dean sighed. "Alright, but when we say run, you run out the door and no going back and playing hero. We know more about this then you do."

I nodded, sending them a smile. "Okay, thanks. Let me just call someone to check on my uncle, then we'll leave."

So we left for Fort Wayne. On the ride there Dean was silent while Sam and I spent the time talking. Sam and I surprisingly get along. We both are, as Dean put it, nerds. We're not nerds; we just like to be educated. He gave off an ease feeling, allowing me to be more open than I would normally be with people I just met, and it was fun letting go. Sam changed the radio and the song 'Baby' by Justin Bieber was playing. When Dean instantly turned off the radio Sam and I sang clearly and loudly to annoy him.

Sam told me short stories of their recent hunts. He told me about the wendigo they killed a couple of months ago. I found out that Sam and Dean actually are brothers and not friends as I once thought. Once the subject of family came around, I saw Dean and his little brother tense, so I quickly changed the subject. When we arrive, since the detective that had worked the case was retired, we met him at his home and he took us into his office.

The detective was a tall African-American man who looked weary and worn out from life.

"I was on the job for 35 years, detective for most of that," He told us, "Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder – that one still gets me."

"What exactly happened, sir?" I asked him.

"You three said you were reporters?" he asked.

"We know that Mary was 19," Sam announced, hoping the detective would believe us. "and lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife."

"That's right," the detective nodded.

"See sir, when we ask you what happened," I started up, "We wanted to know what you think happened." He gave me a look, which I held confidently. I hoped I was asking the right questions. I didn't want to say something that'll make us sound insane. Neither Sam nor Dean interrupted me, so I assume that I'm doing alright. He turned to a filing cabinet behind him.

"Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this," he told us as he opened a file and showed us the picture we found online of the mirror. "Now see that there? T-R-E?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer," the detective explained making me glance up at him. Hmm, that would make sense.

"Do you know who it was?" I asked.

"Not for sure," he replied, "But there was a local man, a surgeon Trevor Sampson." He pulled out a picture of a handsome man, "And I think he cut her up good."

"Now why would he do something like that?" Sam asked.

"Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing," he replied, "She called him by his initial 'T'. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell 'T's wife about their affair."

"How do you know it was Sampson who killed her?" Dean asked curiously.

"It's hard to say," the detective replied, "But the way her eyes were cut out... it was almost professional."

"But you could never prove it?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Nope," he sat down in the wooden chair by his living room table and sighed. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."

"Do you know where she was buried?" Sam asked hopefully.

"She wasn't," the detective replied, "She was cremated." I could feel Sam and Dean exchange a look over the top of my head.

"And the mirror?" I asked curiously, thinking of a slightly different theory. "It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere, is it?"

"Ah, no," he shook his head, "It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago." I nodded and smiled slightly. We might actually have a lead.

"You have the names of her family by any chance?" I asked hopefully and the detective nodded.

* * *

><p>I lay back across the back seat of the Impala on our way back to good, old Toledo; Sam was on the phone with one of Mary's family members, trying to locate the mirror as I closed my eyes tiredly. I hadn't slept since the Winchester boys came into my life last night. I snapped my eyes opened when the last words of my uncle passed through my mind.<p>

_He's coming. Yellow eyes. He's coming. He told me. Tomorrow. He will come. Tomorrow._

"Hey Dean," I said softly. I didn't want to bother Sam while he was on the phone.

Dean glanced at me in the rear view mirror. "Yeah?"

I gulped. "Are demons real too?" I could hear my heart pounding for an answer.

"Yeah, most monsters are real. Why?" His face seemed worried, and I didn't want to worry him, so I decided to end the conversation.

"I'll tell you later." I looked out the window, hiding from Dean's curious glances.

"Oh really?" Sam asked over the phone, "Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks." He hung up after that and I sat up.

"Well?" I asked.

"That was Mary's brother," he replied, "The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo."

"So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?" Dean asked.

"Her spirit is definitely tied up with it somehow," Sam nodded.

"Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yeah there is," I nodded, "People cover all the mirrors in a house if someone dies there... it stops the ghost from getting trapped."

"So, Mary dies in front of a mirror and it draws in her spirit," Dean commented as I nodded.

"Yeah, but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?" Sam asked curiously.

"I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it," Dean replied making me sit forward.

"Sounds good to me," I nodded along with the boys as Sam's phone rang.

"Hello?" he asked curiously, "Charlie?"

* * *

><p>Half an hour later I was sitting on a bed in the boys' motel room. Charlie was also sitting next to me with her eyes covered. Sam and Dean were drawing the curtains and throwing sheets over all the reflective surfaces, turning mirrors towards the wall or floor.<p>

Donna was seriously dumb enough to call out Bloody Mary in the bathroom mirror with Charlie standing next to her. I don't understand why everyone at school believes that she's so smart and pretty with she's neither.

Once the boys were sure everything was covered, they nodded to me. Are they telling me to comfort Charlie? Well, this is awkward. I cleared my throat before I threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into an awkward side hug.

"Charlie," I muttered to her, "it's okay now, you can look up." She raised her head from my shoulder slowly. "Listen, you're gonna stay right here on this bed and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else with a reflection, okay?"

She nodded. "As long as you do that, she can't get you," Sam assured her.

"But I can't keep that up for forever," she sighed sadly, "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"No," I replied firmly. I hated seeing people like this. "Not any time soon."

"All right Charlie," Dean sat next to us, "We need to know what happened."

"We were in the bathroom... Donna said it," she replied.

"I don't think that's what he meant Charlie," I told her softly, "Something happened, didn't it? In your life... a secret... where someone got hurt." She gave me a sad look, "Can you tell us about it?"

"I..." she started, hesitating before deciding to tell us, "I had this boyfriend. I loved him, but he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got into this fight and I broke up with him. He got upset and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself'. And you know what I said? I said 'Go ahead', and I left." She gave us a traumatized look. "How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just... I didn't believe him, you know? I should have."

Her arms were around me again and she was crying into my shoulder. "I'll be out in a sec," I mumbled to the boys making them give me curious looks. They nodded and left. Once I knew they'd gone I rubbed Charlie's back gently, like I would do for my uncle.

"Charlie, hey," I said quietly, "It wasn't your fault." She sniffled, "That guy... he did what he did because there was obviously something wrong with him. He wasn't well." She sat up and wiped her eyes. "People kill themselves because they can't handle the world, and even if you'd have stayed with him, somewhere along the line... he'd have done it anyway and it would have hurt you a hell of a lot more than it did."

"R-really?" she asked as she wiped her eyes again.

"Really," I nodded, "And I'm gonna give you some advice, okay?" She nodded, "Things like this, things that we can't forget. We get over them. Because if we don't they end up defining us... and if we do that... the monsters we have inside us, they win."

"What happened to you?" she asked, catching on quickly.

My hand on her back stopped moving. "My mother died when I was little," I mumbled, looking somewhere else but at her. Tears started to spill. "I came home one day to an empty house. I thought my mother went out shopping and my father working. I grabbed a drink from the kitchen and then went to lie on the couch. I, I looked up at the ceiling…and there was my mother. Fire spewed from her body and traveled to every inch of the house.

"It's like my family's cursed. All the women in my family die at a young age. I never met my grandmother and a few of my aunts. But the aunts I've met have died shortly after.

"You boyfriend…it wasn't your fault. Something was wrong with him and with or without you the results would have been the same. Life isn't all happy and cheery. Sometimes to have that happy and cheery life, you have to let go of what you can't change and move on. If you don't you'll forever be alone and miserable. You'll let all the possible great moments pass you by and you'll regret it."

She gave me a look before smiling slightly and nodding. "Thanks. And I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you. I know you probably didn't want to help me, but thanks for doing it anyway. You're really a good person with a kind heart. I'm sorry I couldn't see that before."

"No problem," I smiled at her. "My uncle Fred once told me that forgiveness is the sweetest form of revenge. I already avenged us." Charlie's face split with a huge grin. "I should go meet the guys though." And with that I got up from the bed. "And Charlie," I turned back making her look up, "Don't move." She nodded and I flashed her, another smile before leaving.

* * *

><p>We were almost to the store when Dean spoke, "You know her boyfriend killing himself," He started, "That's not Charlie's fault."<p>

"You know as well as I do that spirits don't exactly see shades of grey, Dean," Sam replied, "Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary."

"I guess," Dean sighed.

"Hey guys," I started, "I was thinking. Maybe it won't be enough to just smash the mirror."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked curiously making me sit forwards.

"She's hard to pin down, right?" I asked, "She moves from mirror to mirror, who's to say she won't just hide forever?"

"So you mean we should try to pin her down?" Sam asked, "Summon her to her mirror and then smash it?"

"How do you know that's gonna work?" Dean asked me.

"I don't, not for sure anyway," I replied simply. "I mean, it's not like we have any better ideas."

"Well, who's gonna summon her?" he asked making me shrug, "I haven't got secrets."

"I got nada," I replied, my mind skimming through my past for a secret.

"I'll do it," Sam announced, "She'll come after me." I jerked foreword when Dean immediately pulled the car over on the side of the road. Dean turned to his brother.

"That's it," he churned, "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret, that you killed her somehow?" I watched the two of them cautiously. I had no idea who this Jessica girl was, but she seemed to be important to Sam for him to still mourn her death. "Sam, this has got to stop! I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night – it's gonna kill you. If you want to blame something, blame the thing that killed her. Oh hell, take a swing at me. I'm the one who dragged you away from her in the first place."

"I don't blame you," he responded immediately.

"Well you shouldn't blame yourself either," Dean told him, "There's nothing you could've done."

"I could've warned her," he replied.

"About what?" Dean exploded again, his face turning red. I could practically see the smoke coming from his ears "You didn't know it was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work on Mary anyway!"

"No, you don't," Sam countered making us swap a look before looking at him again.

"I don't what?" The older brother asked seriously.

"You don't know all about it," he replied, "I haven't told you everything."

"What are you talking about?" Dean questioned.

"Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam replied simply.

Oh God. This was a bad idea. I groaned. If I hadn't mentioned it then they wouldn't have been arguing, and Dean wouldn't have felt betrayed, hurt. I resolved earlier that I would be the one who took all his suffering away, and I added more to his pain. Stupid me with my stupid ideas.

"No," I told him firmly making both of them look at me. "Not happening. I changed my mind, you are not summoning her."

"Oh and you know some other way of getting her there?" he challenged me.

"Sam, it's not happening," Dean agreed with me, "Forget it!"

"Plus," I smirked, "I'm sure there's something I've done in the past which I've probably failed to mention up until now where someone's died." They looked at me again, "A lot of people in my family have died."

"You're not doing it either!" Dean yelled at me making me glare at him. I've been taking care of myself since I could remember; nobody's going to tell me what to do.

"Don't order me around, Dean! I know you care more about your brother than you care about me, so let me be the one to summon her!" I yelled back.

"Guys!" Sam bellowed, "Stop, okay? That girl back there is gonna die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many people are gonna die after that? Now I'm doing this... you've got to let me." I turned my glare to him before I looked out the window and slumped into my seat. He's hurting Dean with this plan. Dean let out a sigh and started the car back up again. Silence filled the rest of the drive.

* * *

><p>Sam was trying to pick the lock on the door of the Estates Antiques while Dean and I watched for any stand-byers who could potentially call the police. Sam was able to open the doors and we step inside to see many mirrors in the shop.<p>

"Hmm, maybe I should learn how to pick locks," I mumbled as I walked behind Sam and Dean. The older brother turned back to look at me. I guess he heard me.

"Why would a waitress need to learn how to pick locks? So you can pick your way to your boss's safe?"

"First you thought I was a witch and now you think I'm a thief. Seriously Dean, you need to stop being judgmental. The world isn't all black and white. There are fifty shades of grey."

"Did you just reference the porn book?" Dean inquired with a stupid smirk on his handsome face.

I blushed at his response. "You two stop arguing. We have to stop Blood Mary," Sam interrupted us before we could dispute more.

Getting back to business, Dean said, "Well...that's just great Look at all the mirrors." He pulls out the picture of Mary's dead body to look at the mirror. "All right let's start looking. Lucy, you stay with me."

We split up. Sam went to the right while Dean and I went to the left.

"So what happens after we stop Mary?" I questioned, scrutinizing every mirror. "What are you and Sam going to do?"

"After we gank the bitch, Sammy and I are gonna hit the road." Dean continued to search, but then stopped to look at me. His green eyes stared deep into my blue eyes. I could see the loneness and pain that I want to extinguish. He may be an ass but his eyes tell me that he's hurt. Dean has the same hurt in his eyes as does my uncle Fred. "Why? Are you gonna miss me?"

I rolled my eyes and turned around from him. "In your wildest dreams."

He laughed. He then shouted out to Sam, "Maybe they've already sold it."  
>"I don't think so."<p>

Dean and I walked over to Sam, who was standing in front of the large golden framed mirror and Dean pulled out the picture again to compare. It was a match.  
>"That's it." Dean heaved a sigh. "You sure about this?" Sam handed Dean the flashlight. "Lucy, go back to the car."<p>

"Dean, no! I've been with you from the start of this. I have to make sure you two are okay. I won't be able to sit still if I go. Please let me stay here and help."

"Fine! But stay back and don't you dare play hero. When things go wrong, you run and don't look back." With a nod, I took a few steps back towards the wall.

Sam took a deep breathe. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary." He looked at Dean, who gave him an unsure look back, and I. Sam then picked up the crowbar. "Bloody Mary."

Dean turned and noticed something outside. "I'll go check that out. Lucy, stay there. Sam, be careful." Sam readied the crowbar again. "Smash anything that moves." Dean crawled away towards the front door. "Crap." Maybe it was the owner? He put the crowbar down and began to walk to the door.

Meanwhile, I heard a breath, so I took a small step forward and peered into Mary's mirror, my heart pounding with adrenaline. Then a girl with pale white skin and long black hair appeared in the mirror. I let out a small surprised scream. My heart began pounding faster with fear. Sam noticed my scream and turned back to look at the mirror for us to find her missing.

We saw Mary in a different mirror now. Sam smashed the mirror with the crowbar and then smashed the next mirror we saw her in. His back was now facing Mary's mirror.

"Come on. Come into this one." Sam mumbled. His reflection looked odd. It seemed like it has taken a mind of its own. He dropped the crowbar and grabbed his heart. Oh, God. I rushed to him. He looks like he's in pain. I crouched next to Sam.

"Sam!" Worried laced my voice. "What can I do? What can I do?" I mumbled. An idea clicked when I saw Sam's crowbar lying on the ground. I reached out to grab it, but my sweaty palms couldn't grip the crowbar.

"It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica." The reflection of Sam spoke.

Sam then started having trouble breathing and had a trickle of blood coming out of his eye.

I quickly wiped my sweaty palms against my pants and gripped the crowbar tightly. Before I was able to approach the mirror, my eyes started to bleed. It felt like someone had clenched their hand around my heart, causing me to fall on knees. My reflection didn't fall like I've done. It stared me down with livid glare.

Then my reflection spoke. "It was all because of you! They all died because of you! Why couldn't you just die when you fell into that lake?" I closed my eyes. This isn't happening. I'm at home, sleeping in my bed. This isn't happening. Sam's reflection's voice brought me back to the present.

"You never told her the truth—who you really were." I then heard Sam fall towards the ground. "But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning—You had them for days before she died. Didn't you!? You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!? You dreamt it would happen!"

A loud crash caused me to open my eyes. I saw Dean as he bent down on the floor next to Sam and I. He broke the mirror, thank God. No more Bloody Mary. "Sammy! Lucy!"

"It's Sam."  
>Dean noticed the blood dripping from our eyes. "God, are you two okay?"<br>"Uh, yeah," Sam responded and all I could was nod.

"Come on, come on." He pulled me and Sam up. He put Sam's arm over his neck and then Dean wrapped his strong arm around my waist. We began to walk out when we noticed Mary coming out of the frame of her mirror by the reflection of the mirror in front of us. We turned around to see her crawling over the broken glass. My heart sped up as Mary walked towards us and we all fell to the ground. Blood dripped from our eyes as Mary crept closer.

This is it. We're gonna die now. Dean reached up and pulled over a mirror so that Mary was forced to see her own reflection. Wait…would her reflection kill her for killing other people?

I then heard a rough, scary voice shout, "You killed them! All those people! You killed them!" Dean, you're a freaking genius! I will never doubt you again!

Mary started choking to death and melted into a pile of blood. Dean threw down the mirror he held and it shattered. "Hey guys?" Dean called out.

"Yeah?" My voice shook.

"This has got to be like...what? 600 years of bad luck?"

Sam and I chuckled weakly.

* * *

><p>After somewhat cleaning up our mess, we drove to back to the boy's motel room to check on Charlie. It was strange when we returned. Charlie saw us with our cheeks stained with blood, and she checked if Sam and Dean were alright then she came and fussed about me. She had to check to make sure there was nothing critical about me, and then she pushed me into the hot shower.<p>

When I got out of the shower I found clothes for me on the bathroom counter. Did Charlie get me these clothes? I smiled. Wow, Charlie's not the type of girl I thought she was. I thought she was cold hearted, but she's not. She's sweet, kind, and misunderstood. I can see myself getting along with her now. For once, I actually look forward to seeing Charlie.

The clothes I found was a salmon colored, knee length dress with a heart neckline and baby blue flowers printed throughout the dress with A-line straps. The dress was really pretty. Happily, I slipped the dress on. I don't look so bad in this dress. Charlie has a good eye for fashion.

There was also a pretty thin, silver headband and a black brush on the counter. I brushed my golden curly locks. I tied my hair into a side pony tail with a loose strand of hair on the opposite side. Then I put on the silver headband. With a sigh, I walked out of the bathroom.

The brothers stared at me with wide eyes when I came out. I raised my eyebrows in confusions. Do I look that bad? Charlie, with an annoyingly big grin, dashed towards me and threw her arms around me.

"Oh, Lucy!" She let go of me. "You look so beautiful!"

"Thanks, Charlie." I smiled. "Thanks for worrying about me and for the dress."

"Sam, Dean, doesn't she look great?"

I turned to look at the boys. They turned away from me.

"You clean up nice, Blondie," Dean smirked.

Sam said, "Lucy, you do look great."

* * *

><p>We were all in the Impala, driving to Charlie's house to drop her off. We pulled up in front of her house.<p>

"So this is really over?" The blonde next to me questioned.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, it's over."

"Thank you." Dean reached back to shake her hand, and then she gives me a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lucy." Charlie opened the car door and stepped out of the car.

"Charlie?" Charlie turns around to face Sam. "Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen."

Charlie smiles faintly. "Sometimes to have the happy and cheery life, you have to let go of what you can't change and move on. Right, Lucy?" I nodded to her, and she turned around to go into her house.

Dean gently hit Sam. "That's good advice." We then drove off to my house. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is."

"Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself." Sam looked out the window, appalled. I stared out the window, but I didn't see anything. All I saw was the yellow sun falling to turn day to night.


End file.
